Just Another Body
by snix9810
Summary: I didn't want to forget Narnia, but the pain was too much for me to bear. I would sit by my window, reliving my days as Queen Susan the Gentle, Queen Susan of the Horn.


I didn't want to forget Narnia. Sometimes at night, I used to sit by the windows and gaze up at the constellations. They weren't the Narnian stars, but they would do for the time being. That was the time when I could recall the memories the best – Aslan's deep, rumbling voice as his eyes twinkled and he shook his mane; the soft caress of the cherry blossom petals before they formed into a person; the clip-clop of hooves on the stone castle floors as Fauns came to visit my siblings and I. The images were overwhelming, but it was a pleasant feeling. I kept up this routine for the whole year after we returned from Narnia the first time.

But the memories were frightful, also. I would remember that day when we went on the Hunt for the White Stag. The image of that cursed lamppost still haunts my dreams. I just wish I could go back in time to when I was the Queen Susan the Gentle; I wish I could tell myself and my siblings to never have gone that day, to have stayed at Cair Paravel. I didn't want to leave Narnia. Who would ever want that? Narnia was the most wonderful place in the world, where the Fauns danced and the trees were friends.

But then we went back to Narnia again. It was a much crueler place, unrightfully ruled by Telmarines. The trees had been silenced and the Fauns had been stopped from dancing. Barely any of the Old Narnians remained. I think it hurt Lucy the most – she had been the closest with the spirits of nature. She especially missed Mr. Tumnus, her dearest friend.

It was painful seeing Narnia like that. It should've been happy, not violent – Narnia didn't deserve that experience. And Cair Paravel was just a pile of stones – I could no longer pretend that we had never left Narnia. When we stayed there for a few nights, I could still hear the twinkle of laughter in the air as people danced about the floor at a Ball, still smell the many lovely perfumes that I used to own as a Queen. But all of that was gone now – our reign in Narnia had ended a thousand years ago. Us returning to Narnia was almost as if King Arthur of the Round Table would return to modern day London.

And then I met Caspian. He was so special, so perfect – even though we had never met before, it seemed familiar to have him by my side when we first met, almost like he belonged there. It seemed natural to be with him, and whenever he was gone, my soul seemed to grow cold. This need to depend on another person scared me at first.

But then Aslan returned. Spring seemed to burst into even fuller bloom when he shook his mane. _…and when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again – _the old rhyme that I had learned so long ago, in another lifetime, reverberated through my mind. He was even more magnificent than before.

And then we were forced to return to England. The pain was even worst the second time, especially since Aslan told Peter and I that we would not be returning to Narnia. It seemed so unfair that right as I finally met someone who cared for me and I for him, we were being forced apart. I knew that I would never see Caspian again. The odds weren't on our side – the last time we left Narnia, it was only for a year our time, but it turned out to be a millennia in Narnian time.

When we got back home, I talked with Lucy and Edmund and Peter very often about Narnia – almost every day. Narnia and my friends from there haunted my dreams regularly, and Caspian was an ever-present character. But then I started to speak of Narnia less and less. It hurt me too much to think of all that I had lost. I mean, I thought about that world every second of every day – it was impossible not to – but I chose not to speak of it. My siblings thought that I was forgetting Narnia. I didn't understand how that was possible.

Over time, I was invited to go to America with my parents – I accepted the offer rather quickly. I needed to get out of England, get out of the place that would never be home to me – my true home was in another world that I could no longer get to.

Lucy and Edmund wrote to me after a while – they had returned to Narnia, along with our pesky cousin Eustace Scrubb. They told of adventures among as glorious ship called the "Dawn Treader" and of journeying to edge of the world – to Aslan's country. They described how our dear, valiant friend Repicheep the Mouse had gone into Aslan's country, and how Aslan had told them the same thing he had told Peter and I last year.

Even though I was jealous that Edmund and Lucy were able to return _there, _it still made me sad that they couldn't go back either. I think out of all of us, Lucy loved Narnia the most. Perhaps it was because she was the first of us to find it.

When I returned to England a month later, Lucy and Edmund tackled me with information. "Su, you should've _seen _Aslan's country!" There was one topic they carefully avoided. I waited to confront Peter later on about that.

"Was he there?" I asked quietly, struggling to hold in the tears. Even though he hadn't gone, I knew that the other two would've told him every last detail.

He studied my face, contemplating how to respond. "Yes, he was Susan. They said he asked about you."

My entire body turned numb – I couldn't feel anything anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. Caspian was there but I couldn't see him – Lucy and Edmund did though. It just honestly wasn't fair. It was right then that I realized the truth – I was in love with Caspian. But I couldn't see him.

After that day, I became more irritable and impatient. I ceased to speak of Narnia entirely – it just hurt too much to think of things that I had lost. My siblings thought that I no longer cared about Narnia, but that wasn't true – I cared very, very much about Narnia and the people in it, especially King Caspian.

Years passed. I discovered that the best way to forget my memories was to act like I cared about clothes and makeup and boys all the time. The only thing I truly cared about was the world that lay beyond the wardrobe, but I tried to mask that.

And then came that day. The day that will never leave my mind, no matter how hard I try. I remember being at home when they told me. I was looking through an old scrapbook Lucy made me a long time ago – it contained all of our memories of Narnia. Each page was more beautiful than the one before – Lucy always had had a natural talent for art. On the very front cover, Lucy had inscribed a verse that I used to know well, but had forgotten - _Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia._

The sentence brought tears to my eyes. Then the phone rang, causing me to jump. "Ms. Susan Pevensie?" a voice asked on the other end of the line. It was gentle and deep – it reminded me of a voice like springtime in another land.

"Yes…" I answered carefully.

"This is Sergeant Reynolds with the London Police Department. I'm terribly sorry, but I need you to meet me at the local hospital immediately."

"Of course, sir. I'll be right there." The next few minutes were a blur as I scrambled to the hospital. When I got there, a man with a golden beard and kind eyes met me at the door. "I'm afraid you'll need to accompany me to a side room, miss. There's something you need to see."

I followed him blankly, wondering what could be wrong. I can just barely remember a door opening, and walking down anti-septic smelling hallways. The next thing I knew, I was seeing the bodies of three teenagers stretched out on three separate cots.

The girl had fair hair, delicate hands, and a kind soul; her last laugh was still etched upon her face, making her look younger in death.

The eldest of the two boys also had fair hair, identical to the girl's. His face was brave and broad, his shoulders wide, his chest deep. He looked magnificent, as though he could be trusted to carry out anything. His hands were curled into a hollow oval, as though he had died holding something – judging from his expression, I could guess that it had been an imaginary sword.

The other boy's hair was black and shaggy, falling into his eyes. He had a kind face, and very lanky features. I wondered why he hadn't gotten his hair cut. His eyes were closed, but I knew that they were blue behind his pale eyelids.

"I'll leave you alone for a minute," mumbled the man behind me. I nodded vaguely.

My mind felt ready to explode. Tears cascaded down my face, waterfalling out of my eyes faster than I could stop them. I walked over to the girl.

"If only your healing cordial could be with you now, Queen Lucy the Valiant," I whispered. I kissed Lucy's cold forehead, brushing back some hair from her face. She was older than I remembered. But I always remembered the little girl who had first found Narnia, or the lovely and dainty Queen who had turned a blind eye to none.

I leaned over towards the younger of the two boys. "If only your fair hand had played part in your death, King Edmund the Just."

I staggered over to the last body, sobbing. "If only your magnificence could be with you now, High King Peter the Magnificent." I lay down between Peter and Lucy, not even bothering to control my emotions. Their corpses were cold, no longer the same as I remembered.

"Aslan, why did you take them from me? I'm sorry, Aslan! I'm sorry! Forgive me, Aslan!" I screamed to Narnia. I only could hope that Aslan could still hear me.

"Peace, child," breathed a sweet voice. "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen in Narnia."

I smiled, hearing the old saying. The voice smelled like spring, and could only be described as having the echo of pure joy.

As I lay there between the bodies of my brothers and sister, I could see Narnia again. Cair Paravel gleamed beside the mouth of the Great River in the afternoon sun, and Aslan was standing majestically atop the tallest hill in all of Narnia.

"You have a decision to make, child. Are you willing to leave your life and live here?"

"Yes Aslan! I'm so very sorry for forgetting you."

The Great Lion smiled. "Ah, but child, you never forgot. You merely chose not to remember."

And with that, the new Susan Pevensie died. When the police officers would come into the room later, they would just find another corpse among the bodies of three others. I, on the other hand, am the old Susan Pevensie. Queen Susan the Gentle, the Lady of the Horn. And I live in the New Narnia alongside my family, who welcomed me back into their ranks will open arms.


End file.
